


I'm Still Here (a songfic oneshot)

by Khadijalkubra



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Bi Logan, Blind Patton, Deceit isn't a total asshole in this, Genderfluid Character, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Treasure Planet (2002), Jewish Roman, M/M, Mentions of Other Voltron Paladins, Morality | Patton Sanders is a Good Friend, Other, Pansexual Patton, Sad with a Happy Ending, Self Confidence Issues, Songfic, Trans Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Trans Male Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Trans!Virgil, Transphobia, Treasure Planet - Freeform, Virgil has a band, Wiccan Virgil, a lot of diversity, demiboy Picani, he's also Korean, implied moxiety - Freeform, muslim logan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 13:38:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17829587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khadijalkubra/pseuds/Khadijalkubra
Summary: A year ago, Vigil couldn’t have imagined himself being alive, let alone accepted as he was and happy. But here we was, and on the anniversary of the day he decided to start truly living, he plans to show it to his little corner of the world.





	I'm Still Here (a songfic oneshot)

Knowing who you are and coming to terms with it is one thing. Actually getting to _be_ who you truly are without fear and loving yourself is a whole other, much harder thing. As far back as he could remember Virgil had always known two things about himself with absolute intuitive certainty: that he was an anxious mess and that he was a boy. Even without being consciously aware of what gender was specifically, he always felt that way on the inside. It wasn’t until he was five or six and his mom kept forcing him to wear too tight pigtails and poofy dresses that he realized the rest of the world didn’t see him that way; that his outside didn’t match the inside. He hated it and himself.

As he got older he allowed himself small acts of defiance. He insisted on wearing pants when he could and cut his long black hair short. He always insisted on people calling him ‘V’ instead of ‘Victoria.’ His parents weren’t trilled about their child being an introverted sarcastic tomboy that played guitar all day instead of a polite, sweet, studious young lady, but they still loved him. Or rather, they loved Victoria. Virgil learned to hide who he really was, got good at keeping quiet and playing the part as long as it kept his parents happy and himself safe. It was a miserable time in his life. He hated his body, hated his mind, and hated himself; that he longed to have the simple luxury of _being_ his true self, knowing it was impossible. One day, Virgil decided he didn’t want to live this way anymore.

That had been two years ago.

“Yo, Virgil! You still with us man?” Jamal asked, breaking Virgil out of his thoughts.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry ‘bout that dude,” he said to the keyboard player.

“No worries. You just don’t usually get all spaced out like that during rehearsals.”

“Guess I’m trying to channel my inner Ziggy Stardust,” Virgil said, smirking at his band mate.

“That’s not exactly our usual sound,” said their drummer Dariana. She was sitting in Jamal’s lap, lightly scratching the back of her boyfriend’s fro. “But hey, I guess it kind of works for this particular song.”

“Just make sure your head stays in the music,” Duncan droned as he adjusted the strings on his bass. “After all, _you’re_ the one who insisted we do a cover of this song for the talent show instead of one of our own songs. Or _begged_ is more like it.”

“Easy Duncan,” Jamal warned the other musician. “I’d like to get through one rehearsal without you two going at each other.”

“I’m just saying the talent show is this Friday. If our fearless leader is going to make us learn a whole new song in so short a time,” Duncan threw daggers at Virgil with his brown and green eyes, “the _least_ he can do is stay focused during rehearsal.”

Virgil fought the urge to hiss at the Nirvana t-shirt clad teen. The guy was a sarcastic snake in the grass at times, but there was no denying his musical skills. He was an important part of the band, so he tried to keep the peace most days. And to be fair, he wasn’t wrong in this instance. Virgil has been so adamant for them all to learn this song in time for the school talent show. The least he could do was put 110% of his focus into practice.

“Yeah, yeah. I gotcha. No more daydreaming ‘till we’re done.” Virgil promised.

“And hey! We’ve nearly got it finished,” said Dariana as she returned to her drum set. “And it’s only taken, what, three hours?”

Virgil smirked at her subtle call-out to him. He knew she was tired, as was he. Still, his anxiety at possibly being off key or hitting a sour note the night of the show made him push them all to practice even more than usual. This performance was too important to him.

“Alright, let’s pick it back up from the bridge, run through the song two more times and then we’ll call it quits.” said Virgil.

“After we do our ritual for good luck,” Jamal said. “It is the night of the full moon. Gotta get as much of that good energy as we can from Gaia.”

“Of course,” said Virgil. He already had the three spell candles, quarts and incense in his backpack. “Can’t forget that.”

He waited for Dariana to count them in. She clicked her drumsticks together, “ _One-two-three-four!”_

Virgil lost himself in the music as he always did, giving his band mates full attention. After the four Wiccan teens completed the small ceremony they went their separate ways. Well, save for Duncan, since their rehearsal space was in _his_ garage. Yet another reason Virgil tried to keep things civil with him. It wasn’t his fault their personalities clashed harder than a cymbal.

On the long bus ride to the apartment he now called home, Virgil put on his large headphones to block out the rest of the world. It was the easiest ways to relax and not let the anxiety of being in a crowded public vehicle overwhelm him. As the music played and the streets passed him by outside the window, Virgil found himself looking back on where he’d started. He almost couldn’t believe it sometimes. Two years…Two years since the night he wanted to end his life and the same night where a chance encounter had convinced him not to…

…That night Virgil had waited till his parents were fast asleep. Not that he thought they’d miss him (he was never the daughter they wanted him to be) but still, he wanted to spare them the unpleasant sight. Sometime between the witching our and 3am he snuck out the bedroom window and made his long walk to the high wooded hill on the borderline of their small town. He didn’t go there anymore, but at the time that had been Virgil’s safe retreat where he could go to think or cry. He and the occasional summer potheads only ever occupied it. It had been a crisp autumn night and the stars were in their full radiant splendor. He’d at least wanted something beautiful to see in his last moments on Earth.

When he got the top of the hill, the last thing he’d expected to find was someone else already there. It was some guy around his age, and he had been sitting just a few feet away from the cliff’s edge. In all honesty, at the time, Virgil was both surprised and thoroughly pissed. He had been trying to avoid witnesses. Virgil must have stepped on a branch or something, because suddenly the guy was alerted to his presence. When he turned around Virgil froze. Even with only the light of the half moon he recognized the dark hair, piercing blue eyes and glasses. It was a classmate of his from school. Since he was still just a freshman Virgil had never plucked up the courage to talk to him, or anyone else really for that matter. Plus the guy always seemed to be stuck nose deep in his studies. Yet there seemed to be a look of recognition in the others’ face.

“Good evening,” he said, like some figure straight out of a gothic novel.

“Uh…hey,” said Virgil. He pulled up the hood of his purple sweater.

“I hadn’t expected anyone else to be out here tonight, let alone know about this spot,” the guy said, pushing up his glasses. He didn’t seem annoyed however. If anything he sounded curious, yet there was something soothing about his deep voice. “Would you like to join me?”

Virgil watched him pat the spot next to him. It would’ve looked weird if he refused, since he clearly came up there with a purpose. So Virgil opted to sit down for the time being. Besides, given how late it was, the guy was bound to leave at some point.

“You’re in my chemistry class, right?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah,” said Virgil.

“I thought so. Yet I don’t believe we’ve ever properly spoken before. I’m Logan Sanders. And you are?”

Virgil looked down at the held out hand. How could a guy come off as so formal yet open at the same time? Not wanting to be rude, Virgil took his hand, cold from the night air.

“I’m Vic—“ He gulped. Well, if this was gonna be his last night, might as well let himself be honest for once. What’s he have to lose? “…Virgil. Virgil Yang”

Logan didn’t let go or look at him in disgust, but his eyebrows did shoot up. Virgil pulled his hand back, not aware of the softening look on Logan’s face.

“Ah. I see. Well then, pleasure to make your acquaintance, Virgil.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I don’t look and sound like a typical guy—“

“Perhaps your biology may not match your gender. However that doesn’t negate how you perceive yourself to be on a soul level. If you say you are a boy, which I assume so given the masculine name, unless you are non-binary, then frankly it’s no right of mine to refute it,” Logan said matter-of-factly.

There were a lot of words there, a few of which had confused Virgil at the time. But the basic gist he gleaned was that he had been honest about who he was, and instead of receiving disgust or hatred, Logan had taken it in stride. No one had ever treated Virgil that way before.

“I’m a guy.” It felt like such a stupid response, but saying it out loud had felt like a boulder being tossed off his chest.

“Well then there it is.” said Logan with a small smile.

Virgil swallowed the lump in his throat. “Y-yeah I guess…Thanks.”

“Of course. So I realize this is none of my business, but out of curiosity might I ask what brings you up here tonight?”

Jeez, he really did speak too old for someone his age. “I should be asking you the same thing.”

Classic deflective technique. Logan scrutinized him but didn’t press. In his eyes, there was almost a silent yet pained understanding.

“Fair enough. I happen to enjoy coming out here from time to time to look at the stars and wait to make my pre-dawn prayers. It’s quite relaxing to do so in nature, especially before the weather becomes too cold.”

“Pre-dawn prayers?” Virgil asked.

“Indeed. My faith requires Muslims like me, although mind you I am only a recent convert, to perform five daily prayers so as to facilitate a constant mindfulness of God in our daily lives,” Logan explained.

“No offense but I wouldn’t have pegged you as the religious type. Not that I’m judging or anything!” Virgil added quickly. “I mean, it’s not something I vibe on myself, but if it’s your thing, that cool I guess. You just seem all scientific and logical and stuff.”

“Valid assumption, but false. On the contrary, it is possible for science and spirituality to go hand in hand, so to speak. After all, science is the study of the structure and behavior of the physical world around us, even to the unseen subatomic level, and adequately submitting to it. And what is faith other than the study of and submission to an unseen divine force greater that oneself?” Virgil caught the gleam of excitement in Logan’s eyes as he spoke. “Additionally, some of the greatest scientific minds emerged from the Islamic world. For example, did you know that one of the greatest astronomers in history was a Muslim?”

Virgil perked up at that part. “Astronomy?”

When he told Logan that astronomy was his all time favorite subject, the guy went into full-on nerd mode. They started talking about their favorite constellations and the stories behind them. Logan talked about his favorite astronomers and Virgil listened with wrapped interest, captivated by the other’s enthusiasm. Somehow this led to Logan telling Virgil about his theories on how God was actually a They/Them/Their and not an all powerful cis-white He or even a She since God was beyond the human concepts of gender, race, or sexuality. It was so out there and beyond anything Virgil had ever been exposed to, yet it was just so damn wild and interesting to listen to Logan ramble on about it. The more they talked the less Virgil thought about the reason why he’d gone up there in the first place.

Even when Logan stopped to pray, using the small rug he’d brought with him, Virgil didn’t move from his spot. He watched Logan pray or looked back up at the stars. They really had been beautiful that night. Not even that, however, compared to the otherworldly beauty of when the sun finally started to rise. It wasn’t like Virgil had never seen a sunrise before, but something about that one was different. Like the volume on the world around him was turned up yet there was a comfortable silence to it all as well. It broke the walls inside of Virgil’s heart and released the toxic black flood that had been swelling up inside of him for years.

When Logan, having been long done with his prayers, saw Virgil cry he didn’t say anything. Didn’t try to cheer him up or pull back in confused discomfort. Instead he placed a still yet gentle hand on Virgil’s shoulder and sat with him until he’d cried himself out. Even after Virgil calmed down Logan didn’t try to get him to open up about why he’d suddenly started sobbing. Instead he only asked if Virgil felt better. He had. Then Logan offered him a ride back to town on the back of his bike. To his surprise, Virgil took up the offer. He no longer felt as tired as he had on the climb up, but he had felt physically exhausted. He longed for his bed and a good breakfast of rice and eggs with some kimchi. Virgil had taken one last look at the cliff before following Logan down the hill. He could always try again if he needed to, he had reasoned. Death wasn’t going anywhere.

It was because of that one chance encounter that he’d lived to see another day, and more to come.

After that night on the cliff Logan started to talk to him more at school. As nervous as he was at first, Virgil slowly allowed the logical nerd into his small world. They sat together at lunch in comfortable silence, or occasionally got into debates that were admittedly pretty fun. They were both freshman so they had a lot of the same classes. They’d hang out in the library after school or do homework at Logan’s house where his mom would invite Virgil to stay for dinner. Sometimes when Virgil was having a panic attack Logan would be able to help calm him down. They never brought up the cliff again, yet Virgil knew without asking that –if he wanted him to–Logan would be there to listen. One day Logan suggested, albeit in his straightforward way, that Virgil join him at the school’s LGBTQ Club meetings after school. That was also the day Virgil learned his Muslim friend was Bi. The club was also where Virgil would meet his other soon to be two best friends, Patton (the pansexual club president) and Roman (the gayer than the Yule Tide vice president). 

It was because of Logan that he’d found a community and his first real friends.

The more Virgil went to the LGBTQ Club meetings, the more he got to understand the part of his identity that he’d tried to hide away for so long. Virgil was especially drawn to Patton, who’d been the first to welcome Virgil with open arms. Not only was the guy super frigging cute (not that he’d ever admit it out loud) but also the curly haired freckle faced boy was _so_ incredibly warmhearted! Everything about him radiated comfort and kindness and understanding. Perhaps it was because he’d been born blind, but Patton had a way of seeing people (a pun the guy used _way_ too often) for who they were beneath the surface. He slowly got Virgil to open up more about his parents and himself. Patton was an ever-patient listener. The practicing Buddhist had even started teaching Virgil meditation as a way to help calm his thunderstorm mind, and it did help. Later on Patton convinced Virgil to talk wit his father, who also happened to be the school’s guidance councilor, to see if maybe he could help with some of the things he had been dealing with for so long on his own.

It was because of Patton that he’d found hope.

Roman had taken longer to warm up to, since there were both so similar and different at the same time. However, once they got past the snarky banter and discovered a mutual love of Disney and Sondheim, they’d become great friends. When he officially came out as FtM transgender, Roman had been his biggest supporter. Anytime some idiots gave him a hard time in school or threatened him, Roman was there to defend him and tell the others off. He’d convinced his parents to let Virgil stay at his house the first week after being kicked out. Granted, Roman hadn’t told his Sephardic Jewish parents _why_ his skinny goyim friend from school needed a place to stay (he wasn’t exactly ‘out’ at home yet), but they didn’t press. All they knew was that their son’s friend needed help and lots of big meals. So they welcomed Virgil until he’d found a more permanent place to stay. After that, Roman and Virgil had become brothers. Later on the actor introduced him to other musicians, artists, books and plays that were all LGBT centric in an attempt to help him through his trans journey. (“It’s important to keep up with fellow gay icons, especially when you plan to be the next NPH.”) For the first time Virgil saw himself in other’s, saw that he wasn’t alone. He began to think that, hey, if other people made it through okay –had even made an impact in people’s lives– maybe he could too.

It was because of Roman that he’d found his self worth.

Once the drama king had learned of Virgil’s interests and talent in music, he convinced him to be part of the band for the school’s musical. That was where he’d met Jamal, Dariana and Duncan. After learning they all shared a love of punk rock music and were each practicing wiccans, the four teens decided to form their own band. Of course Virgil had been nervous at first and never failed to get stage fright before performing. Yet whenever he got up behind a microphone, guitar in hand and started to sing, he felt a strange sense of calm. When he performed, Virgil couldn’t be anywhere else but in the now and he _loved_ that. On top of that, because he had not only a good voice but also a fairly low one for someone of his, uh, biology, he passed easier as a boy in the audiences’ eyes. Over time the Children of Hecate found their sound and became local favorites. Sure they’d only played at school dances and local open mic nights, but it was a start. This one guy Remy who owned a coffee shop down town even paid them to perform twice a month to get in a younger crowd.

It was because of their band that he’d found his voice…

…The shuddering jerk of the bus shook Vigil from his memories. Good thing too, or else he would’ve missed his stop. _Really gotta work on not zoning out on public transportation._ The last thing he wanted was to end up in some part of town that wasn’t familiar. His nerves would never survive.

The apartment was only a block away form the bus stop. He climbed up the stairs (elevators freaked him out too much), got to the door, took out his spare key and went inside kicking off his boots. The smell of garlic pasta and cookies welcomed him, as did the sound of jazzy Studio Ghibli music renditions. The Picani household never ceased to be a warm and inviting safe haven for him.

“I’m home,” Virgil called out.

“Hiya Virgil!” Patton said, popping his head out from the kitchen.

Virgil noticed he was wearing an apron. Must’ve been helping his Ren out in the kitchen again. It always made Virgil nervous thinking about Patton being in the kitchen when he couldn’t properly see the appliances or the stove. Yet Patton insisted, and admittedly has proven, that he’s perfectly capable of cooking so long as someone else is with him.

“Hey Patton. I’m at the door,” said Virgil, letting the other boy follow his voice.

Patton didn’t need his cane when at home, and he maneuvered around the apartment like a pro. He reached out to Virgil and enveloped the young musician in a big hug.

“How was band practice?” asked Patton when they broke apart.

“Went pretty well. The song’s coming along good and Duncan and me only snapped at each other once. New record.”

“Helloooo nurse!” Shouted Dr. Emile Picani as he popped in from down the hall in all his pink haired glory. “Glad to see ya got home safe Virgil.”

“That makes two of us Doc,” he said.

Virgil set his bag and guitar case down before letting himself be caught in a big hug from the school guidance counselor. Even his hugs were as animated as the cartoons he loved.

“Did I hear you two talking about that new song you’re planning for the talent show? I hope it’s the Disney one you were obsessed with a while back?”

It had been sometime last month when Virgil, Patton and Picani had sat down for one of their Disney movie marathons. They’d put on Treasure Planet, which until then Virgil had never seen. Not only did he love the protagonist, story, and animation, but also the song just spoke to him. Even though the lyrics weren’t about the struggles he’d gone through necessarily, they still spoke to Virgil on a personal level. He’d listened to it on repeat for weeks. That’s how he got the idea to sing it with his band for the talent show after he found out the date.

“Yep. The very same.”

“Exellent,” said Picani in a semi-good Stewie Griffin voice. “Such a great song from a highly underrated movie. I mean _seriously_ , it’s about pirates in SPACE! _HOW_ is that not more popular?!”

“Oh dear,” said a bright voice from the kitchen. “When my partner starts going on a Disney rant is when I come to the rescue.”

Patton’s Ren came out of the kitchen, wiping their hands with a dishrag. Virgil squinted to see the pronouns necklace they wore. Today was a ‘she’ day. As much as she teased the grown man about his cartoon obsessions she really was no better. The long blue winter skirt, black legging and white cashmere sweater she wore made her look practically like Belle incarnate. Save for the cropped curly blonde hair that Patton shared.

“Hello Vigil, welcome back,” she said, pulling him gently into a hug.

“Hey Alma,” said Virgil, returning the embrace. The Picanis were the only people that Virgil let hug him. “Dinner smells great.”

“Thank you! Should be ready soon. If you could help me set the table after you wash up I’d really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he said. Helping out was the absolute least Virgil could do.

“Oh I can’t _wait_ to hear your band play this Friday!” Alma said. “I’ve got the perfect suit to wear for your special night and everything. Even found myself a nice galaxy tie to go along with your space song’s theme.”

“I’m sure you’ll look killer Alma.”

“Don’t forget, Roman’s gonna be in it too,” said Patton. “We’ve gotta show him our love and support also.”

“Well now that goes without saying sweetheart.”

Suddenly Patton started sniffing the air. “Uhh Renny, did the timer go off? ‘Cause I smell smoke.”

“ _My_ c _ookies!_ ” She rushed back to the kitchen. Virgil, Patton and Picani barely held back their giggles.

Virgil really owed the Picanis more than he’d ever be able to repay. When Patton finally convinced Virgil to start seeing his dad for counseling about his anxiety issues, it opened up a new door for him. The hilarious, fun loving, yet surprisingly wise Dr. Emile Picani had given Virgil tools to help manage his mental health issues. Not only that but over time he gave him even more. His office became a safe haven when he had panic attacks or just needed quiet. Picani got Virgil to open up more about his sexuality and body dysmorphia after revealing he was non-binairy (although he tended to favor he/they pronouns). Pretty soon Virgil saw the man as a second father figure. After Patton had told his dad about how Virgil’s parents kicked him out and he was temporarily staying with Roman, Picani immediately told Virgil to pack his things and that he was more than welcome to stay with them. No room for arguments. His partner had been equally as welcoming to Virgil after hearing his story. She even went out and bought Virgil his first binder for his birthday. The Picanis went the extra mile to researched ways for him to get testosterone shots after he revealed he wanted to start transitioning. They gave him a roof, food, comfort, and a place of belonging.

It was because of them that he’d found his freedom.

They spent dinner with the usual boisterous chatter and laughter, Virgil chipping in with his own quieter comments every now and then. Afterwards he and Patton cleaned up and worked on homework together. Then they watched cartoons with Picani before Alma told them to get to bed. All three of them. They whined but did as they were told.

Virgil lay on his futon and stared up at the ceiling thinking. In just a few days it will have been a year since Virgil came out. A year since he started transitioning; now he was more than halfway through the treatments. A year that he found himself happier than he ever would’ve dreampt possible. He fell asleep repeating one thought in his mind like a prayer… _I’m Still Here…_

*    *    *    *    *

The next day at school went by as usual. Virgil and Patton got a ride there with Picani, Virgil tried to stay awake during his first two periods, and Logan nudged him awake during third and fourth period classes. To all of their delight Logan, Roman, Patton and him shared the same lunch period this year, so the four juniors sat at their usual table. Logan and Roman got into some debate or other, Virgil sat back to enjoy the show, and Patton threw in a couple of puns while also reminding Virgil to actually eat his lunch. Then they split up and Virgil went to spend his free period with Picani in the councilors office. Afterwards he spent the last two classes with Roman. All in all, it was a pretty solid day. That is, until the last bell rang.

“Oh come on! Okay, I’ll admit you have a point about the dark undertones of Sleeping Beauty _and_ Peter Pan _and_ Snow White, but it can’t be possible for ALL of the Disney films to have sinister hidden messages.” Roman said, slamming his locker next to Virgil’s for emphasis.

“Come on Princy, have you ever _read_ the original fairy tales those movies are based off of?” Virgil asked as they walked down the hall. “It’s some seriously dark shit!”

“I’m telling Patton you said a bad word,” Roman said in a teasing sing-song tone, dramatically draping his red letterman jacked over one shoulder.

“Don’t you dare rat on me to Patton.” Virgil gave his best black eye-lined glare.

“Aww what’s the matter chemically imbalanced romance, afraid of getting on his bad side?” Roman teasingly ruffled Virgils purple dyed hair, knowing he hated it.

“If he even has one,” Virgil muttered, smiling softly at the thought of his sweet and wholesome friend.

“You know Virgil, one of these days you’re really going to have to tell Patton that you like—“

Roman shut up suddenly. Virgil was grateful for it, because Patton and Logan were both coming their way from the opposite hall. Logan’s black and blue flannel clad arms were loaded with three our four books and Patton was tapping his walking cane along the hall.

“Uh-oh! Guess you’d better start calling me Beetlejuice, ‘cause I swear I heard my name three times,” Patton beamed. “Hi Roman! Hi Virgil!”

“Salutations again you two,” said Logan.

“Hey guys.”

“’Sup?”

“Did we interrupt your conversation?” asked Logan.

“Nah, just the usual banter,” said Roman.

The four of them walked out the school together, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. The leaves had already turned a multitude of red and orange colors. There was a slight chill in the wind that felt sharp in Virgil’s lungs every time he breathed. He was grateful for his usual attire of skinny jeans and his favorite hoodie.

“Jeepers, I’m gonna make myself a nice hot chocolate when I get home,” said Patton to Virgil. “My knees are freezing!”

“I told you it was too cold for a skirt today Pat,” said Virgil.

As usual Patton was clad in one of his soft slightly oversized sweaters. However, instead of his usual jeans, that morning he’d opted for one of the knee length skirts he occasionally wore. Ordinarily Virgil enjoyed seeing Patton in a skirt every now and then (even if it did make his gay brain short circuit), but this time around it was definitely not weather appropriate and he was worried about Patton catching a cold.

“Well it was pretty warm this morning, and I really felt like wearing something cute and comfy that I could twirl in,” said Patton. “I didn’t think it’d get so cold.”

“On the contrary Patton, it shouldn’t be all that surprising given that it is currently 53 degrees out and mid-October,” said Logan, adjusting his glasses.

“Sheesh Logan, you can’t ever let me _skirt_ around a subject, can you?” They all laughed save for Logan, who groaned at all of Patton’s puns.

“I keep telling you, listen to the weather reports the night before,” Roman said.

“I guess, but why bother when it’s easier to just stick my head out the window every morning?” asked Patton.

“Because that’s how you end up with cold knee caps,” said Virgil.

They all laughed good-naturedly at that. Patton tried to pout but he could never keep from smiling very long and laughed along with them. Virgil soaked up every second of it, never letting himself forget just how close he’d come to missing out on moments like these. He smiled at his best friends.

“You’ve been in a rather good mood today Virgil,” said Logan.

“Yes, I noticed that too,” said Roman. “Far less brooding than usual.”

“Guess I’m just looking forward to this Friday,” he shrugged.

“Ah yes, the talent show! I myself shall be performing in it as well,” said Roman. “I plan to do a dramatic reenactment of Lewis Caroll’s brilliant poem The Jabberwocky. It shall be epic!”

“I’m sure it will,” Logan said, rolling his eyes. Virgil snickered.

“And of course I’ll be back in the audience in time to see you and the other Children of Hecate perfume Virgil.“

“As will I.”

“Yep! I can’t wait. Dad and Renny are gonna be coming too don’t forget. So save us some seats.”

“Will do Pat.”

“Speaking of performances, I’d better get home so I’ll have time to practice before my mom and nana rope me into helping her cook again,” said Roman.

“Hey tell Nana Reina I said ‘hi’. Oh, and that I miss her cooking,” said Virgil.

“Will do. Farewell friends,” said Roman, heading towards the buses.

“Speaking of parental units, I’d better be going,” said Logan. “My father should be here to pick me up soon. He’s promised to take me to the planetarium after school before he leaves for his business trip. Farewell.”

“Bye Lo!”

“Later.”

Virgil was happy to see his nerdy friend so excited, but the mention of quality bonding time with a parent made him cringe. When was the last time he’d ever had quality time with his own parents, even before that painful night.

He only came out to him because the LGBT Club and sessions with Picani had filled him with foolish courage and hope. After all, they were his parents and loved him. They’d never been unkind or strict unless it came to school. He didn’t expect they would understand, but maybe they would still accept him. How wrong he had been.

Not only had his parents looked at him like a stranger, like a _thing,_ but his dad told Virgil he’d have five minutes to pack his things and leave. That Virgil was no child of his. Virgil could still remember tasting his own salty tears and the stone-cold tight-lipped glare on his father’s face. His mother hadn’t said anything against Virgil; she hadn’t said anything. But she didn’t defend Virgil or stand up to his dad either. Only looked at him with confusion and disappointment. That was enough. Did they even ever miss him? _Of course not. They hate you, otherwise they would’ve invited you back home a long time ago._ Virgil sighed, knowing that the thoughts in his head were probably right this time.

“You okay Virge?” asked Patton, his brow creased with worry.

“Yeah Pat. Stellar. Come on, let me walk you to the car. Your dad’s probably waiting for you there,” said Virgil, gently holding the other’s elbow.

“Aww that’s sweet of you Virgil, but don’t you have to get to band practice?”

“I’ve got a few minutes to spare.”

They walked to the parking lot together in comfortable silence. That is, until Patton spoke up again.

“Alright kiddo, what’s really eating at you? And I know something is. I hear you sighing,” said Patton.

Virgil sighed. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?”

“I might not be able to tell when your lying the way Toph can with her feet, but I’m not as blind to you as you think.“

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Ugh. You’ve been hanging around your dad too much.”

Patton giggled, but then grew somber. “Seriously though Virgil, what’s wrong? Is it about your parents?”

Virgil stopped in shock, nearly tripping up Patton. He turned to his friend, looking into his light milky blue eyes. “H-how did you—“

“I heard you sigh the first time after Roman and Logan started talking about their families. And I know Friday is the anniversary of the day you came out to them. Wasn’t hard to piece together after that.” Patton gently reached for Virgil’s hand and gave a squeeze. “Are you still thinking about inviting them?”

Virgil let out a groan/sigh combo. He immediately regretted telling Patton about that. It had been the briefest of thoughts. It was weird and painful because, as much as he never wanted to see his parents again, Virgil also _missed_ them. They were his family after all. And he thought, maybe if they came they would change their minds. Or at the very least he could spite them. But two weeks had gone by since telling Patton about that and Virgil still hadn’t emailed either of them an invite.

“I don’t know Patton. Maybe it’s a bad idea. It was stupid of me to want…”

“I understand Virgil. I know that they hurt you, and I’ll be honest…I hate them for that.” That caught Virgil by surprise. “But even so, I know you still miss them. I hear you crying for them in your sleep sometimes down the hall. So maybe…maybe at least extending the olive branch would do you some good. Give you some peace of mind again.”

“Maybe you’re right. But I just…don’t know if I  _can_ forgive them. They don’t deserve it.”

He turned and saw Patton giving him a pained look of sorrow. He was guiltily glad that his best friend couldn’t see him cringing beneath that look.

“Maybe not,” Patton said after a moment. “But you do.”

A staccato car horn oddly in the melody of the Spongebob theme song sounded from a distance. They both turned to the source. No surprise, Virgil saw it coming from a volxwagon. Picani waved to them from the window.

Patton sighed loudly. “That’s my dad. We’ll see you at home later. Well, _they’ll_ see you at home. I’ll hear you. You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, i’ll be fine. See you Pat,” said Virgil.

Patton gave him one last hug before heading off. His dad met him halfway and guided him to the car, helping him fold up the cane and buckle up. Virgil watched them drive away. Then he pulled on his headphones and blared the Treasure Planet theme song before going to meet Jamal, Dariana and Duncan at the bus stop. He needed to escape into some music.

Rehearsals went really well. Virgil was actually feeling pretty confident, and they still had two more nights left to rehears. On the bus ride back home however his mind circled back to what Patton had said. _Forgive them for yourself…_ Maybe it was the healthier way to go but honestly, Virgil didn’t want that. He wanted to stay angry and bitter because that kept the sadness at bay. Or at least covered it up. It hurt to still feel that way and, frankly, he didn’t know if he was strong enough to forgive his parents even if he wanted to. Let alone send them an invite. It was easier just to stay bitter and angry. Virgil spent the rest of the bus ride doing his meditative breathing exercises. The last thing he needed was a panic attack in public.

When Virgil got back to the apartment after practice he was met with the usual welcoming arms. He didn’t join Patton and Picani in the tv room for cartoons, insisting he had a headache. Alma seemed like they’d wanted to talk to Virgil, but ultimately gave the teen his space. Virgil went to the rooftop with his backpack, hoping to distract himself with schoolwork. No luck there. He tossed the notebooks aside (he could get the notes he needed from Logan the next morning) and instead opted to give reading a chance to take his mind off things. He pulled out the worn out copy of _Angles in America_ that Roman had let him borrow. He was nearly through Perestroika and it was getting good. But when he got to a line by the drag queen Belize he paused. Virgil sat up straight and re-read the lines about nine times. Then on the tenth, he read them aloud:

“’He was a terrible person. He died a hard death. So maybe…A queen can forgive her vanquished foe. It isn’t easy. It…It doesn’t count if its easy…It’s the hardest thing.” Virgil swallowed the lump in his throat before reading on. “Forgiveness. Which is maybe where love and justice finally meet. Peace, at least…”

He just sat there staring at the words on those yellowing pages, all to aware of his own breathing. Virgil may not have believed in some singular all-powerful God like Logan did, but he sure as hell believed in signs. After several long moments Virgil’s jaw set firm. He grabbed his things, went back downstairs to the Picani’s family computer, and typed out the hardest email of his life.

*    *    *    *    *

Friday rolled around and with it came the night of the high school’s talent show. Big surprise, Virgil was really anxious. Even the band’s pre-show ritual and meditation with lavender incense hadn’t helped to steady his nerves. They were dressed in their usual all black attire for performances but Virgil had kept his purple hoodie wrapped around the waist. He was fidgeting with the sleeves so much his fingers were starting to hurt.

“Virgil, relax! That pacing is making me dizzy,” said Dariana as she fiddled with the small crystals braided into her afro.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just—“

“Nervous,” said Jamal as he checked that their equipment was ready to go. They were the last act but the musician liked to be prepared. “We know. You always get like this before a gig, and we always kick ass anyway.”

“Yeah, and it’s not like we haven’t been rehearsing for weeks,” said Duncan. Yet even he cast the emo guitarist a sympathetic glance. “We’re bound to at least not suck.”

Virgil took a deep breath. “Thanks Duncan.”

“Whatever.”

It wasn’t just the usual pre-show nerves this time though. Virgil had done the unthinkable. He actually invited his parents to the show tonight. He honestly hadn’t expected them to show up (that had been his one consoling thought) but low and behold, he saw them in the audience from backstage. At least, he was pretty certain it was them. There weren’t exactly a lot of Korean parents in the audience, so who else could it have been? His mom had been shifting nervously in her seat, and beside her was his dad. Arms crossed and stone faced, yet there seemed to be hints of annoyance that shone through the chips in his armor. _Yeah, not exactly thrilled about this either dad,_ Virgil thought bitterly. Still…they’d come.

As had the Picanis and Logan. They were all sitting together in the audience. Logan was reading through the cheaply printed playbill, Patton has his head slightly bowed so he could better listen to the different performances, and both the Doc and Alma had their eyes glued to the students on stage. It was as though they were proud parents of every one of those kids even if they weren’t their own. He could only imagine how they’d be when it was his turn. It warmed Virgil’s heart and made him smile for the first time all day.

Virgil was just finishing tuning his guitar when he heard applause from behind the curtain. Guess they really liked Roman’s enactment of that poem after all. To be fair, the guy was a gold star performer. Virgil had caught glimpses of it from backstage and it honestly was a pretty cool show.

“Children of Hecate, your on deck,” said a kid with a clipboard and wearing a Steven Universe t-shirt.

Roman burst through the curtain and came straight to Virgil. “Virgil! Did you see that? I had the crowed eating out of the palm of my hands.”

“Great job Roman. Seriously,” he said.

Roman’s smile faltered when he saw how nervous the rock musician looked. He placed a firm yet warm hand on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Hey, don’t sweat it Virge. You’re going to do great! I know it.”

Virgil smirked and clapped him on the back. “Thanks man.”

“I’m going to head into the audience. Hopefully Logan saved he a seat. Break a leg!”

He watched Roman go and then went back to his breathing exercises. The next act went by but was cut short when the kid tripped on his own juggling balls. _At least whatever we do won’t be worse then that._ Finally, they were up.

“Alright guys, gals, and non-binary pals,” said the kid from backstage.

Virgil saw his dad cringing at that line. Screw you too.

“Here is your final act of the night. Give it up for Virgil, Duncan, Dariana, and Jamal; a.k.a. the Children of Hecate!!!”

The younger audience members who’d seen them perform before gave the loudest cheer (Roman was loudest of all). The other adults and strangers gave a polite applause. Virgil’s parents hadn’t even bothered with more than two or three stiff claps. Virgil stepped up to the mic and took a shaky breath. He did a test strum letting the strings vibrations ground him. _You got this Virge._ _Remember why you’re here. Do it for you._ He took one last breath before signaling Dariana to count them in.

Then, they played. The drums were like a steady grounding heartbeat, the rhythim of the base like a pulsing metronome in his mind, and the kepboard’s flowing melodies like the blood in his veins. His own guitar strings felt like thick blades of grass against his calloused fingertips, their music gently rooting him in the moment. When they played through the intro Virgil got close to the microphone and sang.

_“I am a question to the world_

_Not an answer to be heard_

_Or a moment_

_that’s held in your arms._

_And what_

_do you think you’d ever say?_

_I won’t listen anyway._

_You don’t know me_

_and I’ll never be what you want_

_me to be.”_

Virgil’s anxiety faded away into the music. He felt the vibrations coming off the state through his boots. Could hear his fellow band mates getting caught up in the swing of the performance, just as they always did. The muse of music was certainly with them all tonight.

_“And what_

_do you think you’d understand?_

_I’m a_ **_girl_ ** _,_ _no,_ _I’m a_ **_man_ ** _!”_

Virgil thumped his chest in emphasis on this line. It took a lot for him to make that small change to the lyric, but he was glad he’d decided to after all.

For the next part of the verse, Virgil looks directly at his parents. He pours all the hurt and betrayal built up over the past two years into the next lines.

_“You can’t take me_

_and throw me away.”_ His dad’s face remains stony as ever, but Virgil catches his mom’s wince.

_“And how_

_can you learn what’s never shown?_

_Yeah, you stand here on your own._

_They don’t know me_

_‘Cause I’m not here.”_

Virgil couldn’t bear to look at their faces anymore. So, he turned back to the audience as a whole, losing himself in the music.

_“And I want a moment to be real._

_Wanna touch things I don’t feel._

_Wanna hold on_

_and feel I belong._

_And how_

_can the world want me to change?_

_There the ones that stay the same._

_They don’t know me_

_‘cause I’m not here.”_

He turned towards where Roman, Logan, Patton Dr. Picani and his partner were sitting in the audience. Virgil knew the blind boy couldn’t see him, but he hoped that his friends could still feel him through the music. Moreover, he hoped Picani would understand how grateful Virgil was to him for everything the man had done for him.

_“And you_

_see the things they never see._

_All you wanted, I could be._

_now you know me_

_and I’m not afraid.”_ Not anymore.

_“And I_

_want to tell you who I am_

_Can you help me be a man?_

_They can’t break me_

_as long as I know who I am!”_

Virgil did know who he was. That’s what got him this far, and even though it was hard, he hadn’t let the world break him. It came close, but thanks to the new friends in his life Virgil emerged stronger than the world. It’s like Picani was always telling him: Self-love is the greatest form of defiance.

_“And I want a moment to be real._

_Wanna touch things I don’t feel._

_Wanna hold on_

_and feel I belong._

_And how_

_can the world want me to change?_

_There the ones that stay the same._

_They can’t see me_

_but I’m still here.”_

Everyone could see him now for all that he truly was. And sure, there were still bigoted haters and idiots. Yeah, he was still pretty terrified a good 25-60% of the time. Even so, he wasn’t alone anymore.

Virgil gave the signal for Jamal and Duncan to get ready for the key change coming up after the bridge. That had been Dariana’s suggestion, since Virgil actually had the vocal range to pull it off, even with the testosterone shots shifting his voice. He took a breath to steady his nerves before picking the song back up again.

 _“They can’t tell me who to be…”_ Duncan played a short bass solo.

 _‘Cause I’m not what they see…”_ Dariana killed her drum solo.

 _Yeah, the world is still sleepin’_ _while I keep on dreaming for me…”_ Jamal rocked his short sharp chord progression.

_“And there words are just whispers_

_and lies that I’ll never belieeeeve!”_

Virgil couldn’t fight the smile that climbed up his face now. Not only had they nailed that key change, but also nearly the whole auditorium was cheering now. For a moment Virgil felt like he was standing on the edge of eternity, but instead of falling he was flying. He was happy. So impossibly happy! Virgil felt the tears slipping down his cheeks but managed to hold it together for the finish.

_“And I_

_want a moment to be real._

_Wanna touch things I don’t feel._

_Wanna hold on_

_and feel I belong._

_And how_

_can they say I never changed?_

_There the ones that stay the same._

_I’m the one now_

_‘Cause I’m still here.”_ Virgil played a few quick yet slick guitar licks.

_“I’m the one_

_‘cause I’m still here._

**_I’m_ ** _still here!_

 _I’m_ **_still_ ** _here!_

_I’m still heeeerrre….”_

The song ended. He was in tears and no doubt his eye shadow was kind of a mess (although it probably added to the goth punk aesthetic). His heart soared even higher when the whole audience stood up in a wild applause and cheers. He spotted his friends and Picani being the most exuberant cheerers of all. Even Logan had abandoned his usual composure out of pride for his friend. The only ones who weren’t cheering so much were his parents. In fact, they weren’t even in their seats anymore. Virgil looked to the back of the auditorium and saw them talking to each other at the door. Virgil looked away. Yeah, it stung. But honestly, he didn’t care. He was happy. So unbelievably happy because he had done this even though it was hard.

“Well, guess we know who won the show,” said Duncan over the applause.

Virgil rolled his eyes but nodded in agreement, even smiling at the guy. They all took a final bow before the Steven Universe kid (oh right! That was Thomas from drama club) closed out the show. Virgil clambered off the stage and was immediately caught in a patented Patton hug.

“Virgil that was AMAZING!!!” Patton said with a squeal.

“We’re super proud of you buddy,” said Picani, joining in on the hug.

“You are kicked butt up there, sweetie,” said Alma as they added onto the hug.

“Thanks guy…but uh…need to breathe!”

“Oh, sorry!” They all said letting go.

“Seriously though Virgil, you sounded amazing,” Patton said as he squeezed Virgil’s hand, “I could practically hear how happy you were up there.”

“Patton,” Virgil held the boys hand in his own, grateful that Patton couldn’t see him blushing. “That may just be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Patton gifted him with the warmed of smiles. Virgil practically melted.

“Honestly Virge, I’m not even mad that your band won the show instead of me,” said Roman. “You all gave an Oscar worthy performance. Grammy? Either way, you kicked ass.”

“Language,” said both Patton and Alma.

“Indeed. While I don’t quite understand theatrics that was undeniably a fantastic performance,” said Logan. He clasped Virgil on the shoulder and gave a rare soft smile. “Tremendous job Virgil. You’ve really come so far.”

Virgil smiled back. “Thanks Logan. All of you, I—“

Someone cleared her throat and stepped into there little circle of light and love. Virgil stiffened, holding tight to Patton’s warm hands to ground himself.

“Mom?” he said, voice trembling.

“Hello Vic—Virgil,” she said. “I’m Mrs. Yang. Are you all Virgil’s friends?”

“Indeed ma’am,” said Logan, his eyes cold.

Roman took a protective step in front of Virgil. Patton, having now picked up on the sudden shift in the air, seemed to get the gist and did the same. He practically held his walking stick like a spear.

“Hey, hey, hey. Hakuna matata boys. I’ve got this,” said Picani.

He stepped in front of the teenagers and put on polite yet icy smile. Meanwhile Alma stood behind Virgil, their hands resting protectively on his shoulders. Picani extended a stiff hand towards Mrs. Yang.

“Do you how do? My name is Dr. Picani. I’m the school’s guidance councilor and, for the past year or so, your son’s guardian.”

To Vigil’s surprise, standing before the other adult, his mom looked…small. Not height wise but like on the inside. To her credit she politely, albeit awkwardly, shook his hand.

“I’m glad to know that my child’s been looked after,” she said.

“Well someone had to,” Alma said. Virgil had never heard so much venom coming out of their mouth before.

“May I speak with Virgil alone?” she asked. “Please?”

After a pause and a loud breath, Picani said, “Of course.”

“ _Dad!_ ” Patton said.

“Come on fellas, lets give these two some privacy,” said Picani, corralling the reluctant teens away from their friend. “Virgil, we’ll be right over by the bake sale table if you need us.”

Virgil nodded to him, still a bit in shock. “Thanks Doc.”

Alma kissed the top of his head before going over to join their partner. Now that they were alone together Virgil felt the bitterness starting to creep back into his heart again. Despite this, he couldn’t help noticing just how nervous his mom looked. She was even fidgeting with her fingers in the same way he did. When did that start happening?

“You were wonderful up there,” she said finally. “I’ve never seen you so happy.”

Virgil scowled. “Yeah well, you haven’t exactly seen me in a while.”

She winced at his words. He hated how it made him feel both guilty and glad at the same time.

“I thought you were leaving with dad,” said Virgil.

At the mention of him, she stiffened her spine. There’s the mom he remembered.

“I told him he was free to leave on his own. I also told him that he should leave with his things and that he’s not welcome to come back home. Not until he was ready to live under the same roof as you.”

That took Virgil by surprise. “W-wh-what?”

“I want you to come back home Virgil,” she said, a sad smile on her face. “Everything’s already made up the way it was before. I mean, I-I added a few more, um, _male_ intended furniture and re-painted the room so that it wasn’t so, uhh, _pink._ You still like purple, right?  I didn’t expect you to say yes right away. I’ve been planning it for a while but I never—I-I didn’t know—but after seeing that email you sent I hoped…I even cleaned your room up today just in case…”

Virgil was speechless. Someone might as well have dropped kicked him in the gut, he would’ve been less surprised. He swallowed the cotton ball in his throat and managed one shaky word.

“Why?”

“I-I told you, I want you to come—“

“Why now!” Virgil seethed. It cam out sounding more sad than angry. “Why now?”

He hated just how desperate he sounded. Then again, his mom looked just as desperate, if not more. Hell, she looked about ready to cry. That quelled some of the embers in his temper.

“Because I’d rather have a happy son than a suicidal daughter! I _miss_ you Virgil. Ever since that day the house—my _life_ —has felt so _empty_ without you in it. I admit, when you told me about…you…I was confused. I didn’t understand it, and quite honestly I still don’t. But you’re my child and I love you more than anything. I’m willing to bend and _try_ to understand. I made a mistake and I’ll be spending the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. Virgil, baby, p-please come home? C-can you ever _f-forgive me_?”

For the first time ever, Virgil saw his mother start to cry. He tried to ignore the stinging in his own eyes, just barely keeping a straight face. He took a deep breath, looked her in the eyes, and nodded his head yes.

Relief painted his mother’s face, as did a fresh wave of tears. She stepped hesitantly forward, arms open, and he filled the space between them. Virgil hadn’t realized how much he missed being held by his own mother. That did it.

“I’m still mad at you,” Virgil cried, “but I love you mom.”

“I love you too Virgil,” she wept. “My _son_.”

They held each other for the longest time. Over her shoulder Virgil looked at where Picani was watching concerned. He gave the councilor a thumbs up and the grown man visible sagged with relief. He nodded and smiled proudly at Virgil before talking to the others. Virgil would fill his friends in later. For now, he just wanted to be in the moment.

It wasn’t going to be easy starting over with his mother. Then again, when had anything in his life ever been easy? Even so, no matter what the world threw at him, Virgil had proven himself stronger.

He was alive, he was happy, and he was still here.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope everyone enjoyed this fic. I've gotten a lot of wonderful feedback for it on Tumblr (both as the oneshot and broken up into chapters for submission reasons), but still. This is a fanfic that I am especially proud of! I tried to do as much justice as possible but I am not myself trans or part of the lgbt community. So if I got anything wrong or could’ve done anything better please let me know. Also, a condensed version of this story may be included in an online Virgil centric magazine called The Spooky Zene, so be on the lookout for that and the other wonderful artist who're part of it.  
> Once again, thank you all for taking time to read this story, it truly means so much to me!  
> Lots of Love,  
> \- Khadijah


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